


gates of the body

by ohfreckle



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sexually Confident Alec Lightwood, Spanking, lots of feelings, mentions of past Magnus/Camille
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 21:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17271671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: Even someone as powerful as the former High Warlock of Brooklyn can feel lost and overwhelmed sometimes. Nothing a good fuck can't fix.





	gates of the body

The edge of Alec's desk is rounded and worn with age, but the hardwood still bites into Magnus’ fingers where he’s hanging on to it in a white-knuckled grip. Colorful spots are dancing before his eyes when he squeezes them shut, the last rays of sunshine filtering through the stained glass and bathing the room in a rainbow of color. 

It had crossed Magnus’ mind once or a dozen times how it would feel to make use of that desk for more entertaining purposes than writing mind-numbingly boring reports to the Clave. Only in his mind, he’d pictured Alec laid out on the hard surface, his chest rising and falling rapidly under Magnus’ lips and tongue. 

Instead, it’s Magnus who ended up naked and bent over the desk, Alec’s broad palm on the small of his back pinning him effortlessly in place. Magnus tries to arch and push back and not for the first time he’s going absolutely nowhere. Sometimes Magnus forgets that Alec is a highly-trained warrior, but that makes it even more enjoyable when he ends up on the receiving end of all that cunning and strength. A hot thrill races up Magnus’s spine and breaks out of him in a low moan when Alec pulls back and keeps him spread open on just the head of his cock, Magnus’ rim stretched around the ridge of the crown. 

“You were right,” Alec pants behind him. Magnus can feel his thighs tremble against the back of his own with the effort to hold back. “Sometimes a good fuck is all you need. If I’d known my cock is what you need to stop running yourself ragged and make you sit still for more than a minute, I would have fucked you days ago.”

“Not a lot of fucking happening here,” Magnus shoots back, his voice breaking around the last word when Alec pulls out and fucks back in hard and fast, all the air rushing out of Magnus with a low groan when Alec bottoms out. His head is swimming, and he’s panting while he’s willing his body to adjust to the sudden fullness and the burn of being filled so completely. No amount of hasty magical prep and lube can take away that initial sting of a good, hard fuck. 

Magnus loves it. 

Has been asking for it for days if he’s honest with himself. Maybe not exactly for being fucked stupid with his ass in the air, but for something to take him out of his own head. It was only a matter of time before either Alec or Catarina snapped. Magnus knows he stretched himself too thin after he got his magic back, too many clients that were eager to come back once word spread that he was available for consultation again, too many experiments fueled by equal parts delight and desperation. What if it was only temporary? What if Asmodeus changed his mind? Magnus had spent whole nights in the apothecary and out in the field for clients, running himself ragged against all reason. 

All along Alec has been there, a solid presence at his side that became more and more quiet with every impatient rebuff and snarky comeback every time he asked Magnus to slow down. And Magnus had thrown Alec’s kindness back at him— _anything else you want me to lecture on?—_ and when he showed up at the Institute thirty minutes earlier, demanding help with a spell for a client, he’d rebuffed Alec’s worried questions with a patronizing _Sometimes a good fuck is all you need_.

As it turns out, Alec’s biting and frustrated kiss was what finally cut through the cobweb of vexation and resentment in Magnus’ head. Some of the shame about how he treated everyone is still simmering under the arousal in his gut, but it’ll have to—oh, hell yes, _just_ _like that_ —wait.

“That enough fucking for you?” 

Alec fucks into Magnus with an artless thrust that goes that little bit too deep, makes Magnus’ toes curl with shaky pleasure and his mind go blank. A sharp little whine tears out of his throat that sounds a lot like _No_. He’s always been a glutton for punishment and what glorious punishment it is. Alec’s cock fills him again and again, deep and hard with enough force to push Magnus up towards the edge of the table until he’s on his tiptoes, sheets of Clave reports crumpling under his sweaty chest and stomach. 

“No? What _does_ it take to get you out of your head?” Alec’s voice is deceptively smooth, but Magnus knows him well enough to hear the razor’s edge of frustration under the arousal, can feel it in the heavy press of his fingers when he moves his hand from Magnus’ back to curl around his hip, holding him still. His other hand comes to rest on the cheek of Magnus’ ass, his palm a hot brand as he squeezes and waits.

A sharp thrill races up Magnus’ spine and spreads like wildfire in his gut. Damn Alec. Damn him for remembering their talk about needs and proclivities, for finally making the connection and instinctively sensing what Magnus needs when he’s in one of his moods. Damn him for giving Magnus what he hasn’t felt in decades, reminding him of something he’d firmly locked away in a heavily warded corner of his mind after—

_This!_ Magnus thinks, his mouth dropping open around a gasp but no sound comes out. He pushes back and arches against the hot curve of Alec’s palm, fucking himself on Alec’s cock until Alec gets the hint and starts moving again, and then he doesn’t think at all. 

The smack of skin on skin rings loud and obscene through the room, one second before the burn on his right cheek registers in Magnus’ mind. A sound breaks out of his throat, something between a shout and a groan, and with it, the last remnants of tension and restlessness are starting to bleed out of him. Magnus’ whole body goes limp, the feeling of hand-shaped heat blooming on his ass familiar and yet new and exhilarating like the first breath after being underwater for too long. 

Alec’s hand is large and hot, his broad palm erasing the last vague memories of small, cold hands dealing out pain with ruthless efficiency. Alec’s touch lingers in a caress, the tips of his fingers trailing against heated flesh as he drags it over the swell of Magnus’ ass. 

Magnus can sense the exact moment Alec realizes the effect his slap has on him. Alec sucks in a harsh breath when Magnus can’t help but arch into his touch rather than shying away from it, hips jerking sharply, driving his cock deeper. For long seconds that brilliant mind is analyzing and cataloging Magnus’ reaction, filing it away to mull over later, and just when Magnus starts to think that maybe Alec got it all wrong, heat explodes on the left cheek of his ass. 

Magnus gives himself over to the sensation with a full-body shudder and clenches down instinctively, working Alec’s cock with shaky little spasms, pulling him deeper as he scrabbles at the desk for purchase and his mind goes completely blank. Alec is trembling with pleasure, so Magnus does it again. Eyes closed, he focuses on the fire that rages under his skin and the hot pulse of pleasure inside, his body pulling taut with anticipation for the head of Alec’s cock to drag over that spot that makes his insides liquefy in a gush of heat.

It never comes, as if Alec can sense that one well-placed thrust will be enough to send Magnus over the edge. Magnus pants wetly against the papers under him, his entire body pulsing with how good it is, how Alec fucks him slow and curling and deep, only to be jarred out of it by sharp slaps to his ass. Left, right, right, there’s no pattern for Magnus to anticipate other than that it’s always just shy of how much he _needs_ it to hurt. 

“Alec, come on. Harder,” Magnus gasps, at least that’s what he thinks that the mindless sounds tumbling out of him mean. He’s beyond words, his body thrumming with the heated pressure that keeps mounting right behind the root of his cock, ratcheting higher with every deep thrust. 

“Like this?” Alec’s voice is shot to hell with sex and exertion, curling around Magnus’ very bones and filling him to the brim, something to be filed away and treasured on lonely nights. All Magnus can do is take it when Alec rolls his hips and brings his hand down hard, take it, take it, _take it_ until all he knows is Alec, Alec’s cock, Alec’s heat. His cock is hanging heavily between his legs, dripping and making a mess. Just a single touch—

Magnus cries out when he’s suddenly empty, the ridge of Alec’s cock stretching him wide when he pulls out. His nape prickles with the open-mouthed kiss that Alec places there, and he’s too torn between frustration and outrage to resist when Alec manhandles him around until he’s flat on his back, only Alec’s broad palms on his ass preventing him from sliding off the desk. 

“What—” Magnus starts when he finally catches his breath, but one look at Alec and it rushes right back out of him. A drop of sweat splashes down on Magnus’ stomach, and he’s immediately reminded of the first time he saw Alec pummeling that punching bag: panting and dripping with sweat, the muscles in his shoulders and back bunching and releasing. Like this, Alec is a vision, wild and captivating, his dark eyes burning with naked want and god, there is nothing Magnus wants more than to be his. 

Magnus wets his lips and lifts his chin in a silent challenge. 

Alec’s eyes light up with keen hunger. Fuck, no one has ever looked at Magnus like that. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll fuck you so well you’ll never forget it,” he rasps, palms sliding up over the heated skin of Magnus’ ass and the back of his thighs, adding pressure until Magnus gets the hint and hooks his hands behind his knees, holding himself open. 

His stomach twists with a mix of exhilaration at exposing himself like this, pride at the way Alec sucks in a harsh breath, his face flushed with stark desire, and in-between that a flicker of the vulnerability he hasn’t been able to shake for days. It’s an intoxicating mix that sends Magnus’ heart racing, makes him lift his legs a fraction higher, teasing, begging, anything, just—

A groan breaks loose from Magnus at the feeling of two fingers dipping into his hole, testing and spreading him wide with almost casual ease, the touch of a lover who knows that his touch is wanted and craved. “So hot. Perfect,” Alec murmurs and slides his fingers in, fucking Magnus with lazy strokes, his thumb caressing the swollen and sensitive rim of his hole. 

“Just fuck me already,” Magnus whines through clenched teeth and drops his head back against the hard wooden desk, the papers on it crackling and sticking to his sweat tacky back. He feels wounded, scraped raw, so close he doesn’t trust himself not to come all over himself just from the sight of Alec looming between his splayed legs. 

Alec simply gives a hum that sounds like maybe he could be persuaded given time and reason and taps his fingertips against Magnus’ prostate. 

Magnus jerks and clenches down on Alec’s fingers that are just not _enough_ , cursing Alec in three dead languages as his arousal flares almost painfully, ass throbbing and cock dripping as the fire in his gut burns even hotter than before. Curse Shadowhunters and their competitive streak, curse Alec for bringing it to the bedroom—fuck, his _office_ —curse him for exactly knowing what Magnus needs and giving it to him when Magnus himself is desperate enough to settle for quick gratification.

“Look at me!” 

As if Magnus could ever look away. Alec’s eyes are sliding half shut when Magnus meets his eyes, his muscles bunching up as he grips his cock tight at the base and guides himself inside. He goes slow, body coiled tightly, lets Magnus feel the smooth, blunt head pressing against his hole before he breaches him slowly, so fucking wide before his goes all the way in, snug and hard, shocking a high whine out of Magnus. “I love you,” Alec whispers, voice hoarse and wrecked, wrapping like a fist around Magnus’ pounding heart. “I love how you take it, how much you love this. You were made for this. _Made for me_.”

All Magnus manages is a jerky nod in response, his breath stuttering in the dip between his collar bones. He feels the heft of Alec’s cock moving inside of him, deeper and faster with every thrust. Alec’s body is a rolling mass of power between his legs and Magnus can’t breathe, can’t think. There’s only his dripping cock and his pulsing ass, the mounting pressure behind his balls, and _oh fuck_ , the sting of his overheated skin every time Alec’s hips are slapping against the cheeks of his ass. His lungs burn as Alec leaves him devastated, makes him feel new. 

“Alec! I’m—” The room roars with white noise and Magnus’ eyes slam shut, his shoulders aching with how desperately he’s holding himself open. One of Alec’s palms cradles his balls, warm and rough, squeezing carefully. His other hand wraps around Magnus’ cock, stroking hot and tight enough that Magnus can feel the callouses on it, his thumb rubbing against the sensitive underside of the head, the hint of a nail, and Magnus is suddenly there, there, there…

He goes taut all over when he comes, muscles rigid and his mouth open on a ragged sob, choking on his pleasure as he spills in wet strings between them. Alec carries him through it and fucks him through the tremors, murmuring low praise until the way Magnus clenches around him becomes too much and he tumbles over the edge. He holds himself deep inside Magnus’ body when he comes, hips stuttering as he fills him up. Magnus arches into it, crying out as a wave of aftershocks hits him that feels like he’s coming again. He’s shaking from nape to tailbone, numb with pleasure and unable to hold onto his legs any longer. 

Alec slips out of him when Magnus lets go and lies there utterly boneless. He can feel Alec’s come dripping out of his sore hole, leaving him wet and sticky where it slides down his crack. It’s filthy and obscene, proof of just how sated and well-fucked Magnus is. 

Magnus only feels the wetness on his eyelashes and cheeks when Alec swipes his thumb through it. Did he cry? Magnus can’t remember. All he remembers is Alec’s cock, Alec’s hands—Alec, Alec, _Alec_ —amid a cloud of gut-wrenching arousal, the remnants still lingering in his aching hips. 

Soon enough Magnus will have to find the energy to clean up the mess they created. Right now it seems like a monumental feat albeit a welcome reprieve from the talk they need to have. Magnus knows he’s forgiven, that Alec doesn’t expect an apology, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t deserve one. 

But for a few moments longer he lets his body talk and opens his mouth when Alec draws him into a kiss, sighing into the space between them when Alec’s weight settles over him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: 'Sometimes you need a good fuck'  
> I'm firmly team switch, but not many people let Magnus have the dick he deserves, so I'm taking this task very seriously. 
> 
> My headcanon is that Magnus isn't submissive but he enjoys a bit of rough handling. The pain of a spanking helps him too clear his mind when he's stressed and overwhelmed, but it's a rare pleasure because he only engages in that kind of play with someone he trusts implicitly. 
> 
> Come and say hi on [Tumblr](http://ohfreckle.tumblr.com/) or [twitter.](https://twitter.com/ohfreckle)


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